The Mask of Innocence
by unsedated
Summary: Intimacy? Just a smidge. Also known as an exploration of relationships by Newt Scamander and Porpentina Goldstein. With a lot of gazing and touching and maybe even more.
1. Chapter 1

**Note:** Stuck halfway through an entry for my other collection "The Giver" when this idea came. It doesn't really fit into the idea of that collection so here you go. I hope they're not too OOC. Enjoy!

Usual disclaimers apply. I am not JK.

* * *

The black of her sequined gown contrasted beautifully against her pale skin.

Newt tried to swallow silently, quite shameful on the direction his thoughts are beginning to sway to. He averted his eyes from the valley formed by her bosom, but the image burned at the back of his eyelids. He was not averse or indifferent to the features of a female's body; people usually mistook the blankness of his expressions in the face of such matters to nonchalance. He is a man. He has his desires. He wanted – craved for – intimacy for as long as he's known it, but has opted to shelter himself instead of surrendering to rejection. There is so much love the world has to offer, and he's found them in the creatures he'd taken under his wing. However, he longed for something – or _someone_ – who could just answer his prayers to Merlin.

He thought it was Leta Lestrange.

Leta – all shades of brown he could visualize – appealed to him in his youth. She was vibrant and daring in every action she took. She was engaging and unapologetic, unafraid to defy norms. Leta was all sharp edges – confidence, fierceness, and talent rolled in one. Newt felt exhilarated whenever she offered adventures worth his while, and inch by inch he crawled out of his shell. He would momentarily shed the coat of insecurities and expectations when he was with her, and for a while try to be a stranger in his own skin.

Protecting her became instinctive. After all, she somewhat saved him from himself. She didn't feel like Newt Scamander, the overshadowed second son. With Leta Lestrange, the boy was simply Newt – eternally generous and kind with a dash of clumsiness.

Somewhat – because whoever Leta molded wasn't him. She wanted him to reach heights and climb to the top of hierarchies because of his potential and passion; he simply wanted to bring his creatures home. She wished for him to be becoming of his station as a pureblood; he was painfully awkward and unconventional. She would always wish for him to be by her side, only for him to be left alone in the greatest downfall of his short life.

(It was never simply taking the blame, but Newt would never blame Leta for walking away.)

Yet this woman – Tina – with her own faults and worries, went out of her way to find them. She might have felt obligated to assist him because of the nature of her previous work or simply out of the goodness of her heart, but she stayed.

And her staying made her more enticing in his eyes than all the adventures the world would have offered.

Letting his control slip if only for a few moments, Newt lifted his gaze from the ground to the edge of Tina's dress. The cloth hung like waterfalls to her ankles. His eyes traced her form upward, reaching the slight swell of her hips as it connected to her torso. The looseness on the area of her waist suggested her slender frame. Blue eyes became a shade darker as it reached the curve of her breasts, which moves rhythmically and almost imperceptibly with the woman's breaths. Then her skin, her luminescent skin again, against the backdrop of a dingy downtown alley.

Newt wished to paint every color he captured in his journeys on her skin. In the end, something he would eventually prove in the near future, he knew they would not match to her.

At the sound of knocking, Newt broke his gaze.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** I was too giggly about this I need to stop.

Anyway, disclaimers apply. Enjoy.

* * *

Queenie thought it was ridiculously sweet. They were in the middle of a chase between magical beasts and the government, and should be worrying about the suspicious environment being harbored in Gnarlack's hidden bar. She could easily pick up Tina's nervousness as she listened to her escape plan, as well as Jacob's curiosity and wonder of the peculiar beings around him (at least for him). Newt's thoughts run about a mile a minute – no, a mile a _second_ – but a recurrent theme caught her attention.

 _A small jar, or a teapot to secure the newborn occamy. Dougal would probably spoil him, which could be advantageous. His mothering instincts are really endearing. I think Tina will make a great mother someday, the way she cares for her sister and others who need protecting. There is no need for her to do this, really. I've been such an inconvenience—_

The sudden cut in his train of thought caused Queenie to glance upward, and from her place she could see Tina inconspicuously reached for Newt's hand under the table. Queenie wanted to laugh as redness immediately crept up his nape and his cheeks.

 _It's a wonder how soft the palms of her hands are, given how hardworking she is. Just—_

Images of her sister's hand palming Newt's face flashed in her mind. Newt then covered it with his own, placing delicate kisses up Tina's arm. Reaching her wrist, he kissed her pulse point lightly at first. He repeated the action after, now kissing deeply with his tongue grazing her skin. Tina's hand balled to a fist, and Queenie surmised that it was taking a lot of her self-control not to grab the man. Newt proceeded with his ministrations, up to the familiar curve of Tina's shoulder's. He buried his nose at the angle of her neck, playfully biting on the plateau her bones formed. Tina let out a cross between laughter and sigh.

Queenie shook her head, as if doing so will remove the scandalous ideas she's just seen. But hell, who cares?

Purposefully, she approached the two, now seated apart.

"Would you like me to grab you both drinks? I'm feeling quite… _parched_ with all the moving we've done." Queenie sent a look at Newt, who stiffened upon hearing her voice. Tina nodded before looking around once more, whereas Newt consciously touched his bowtie in distraction.

 _Queenie, please spare me. I apologize. I shouldn't…I forgot. It's inexcusable—_

Catching his eye, Tina gave him a wink, patting his shoulder on her way. She heard Pickett the Bowtruckle laughing from his coat pocket, as if knowing about his embarrassment all too well.

She is no clairvoyant, but Queenie is definitely looking forward to teasing both Newt and Tina when it finally happens.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:** If you sense that this is too OOC for your liking, press the back button or close this window/tab. Either way, I give you the liberty to send me a virtual smack for bringing this into writing.

If you dare to read it (if you're a kid, I suggest you don't. Won't hold it against you.), uhm, enjoy? :)

Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

Tina eased the bejeweled hair ornament off her head, massaging her aching scalp. If there's one thing she's certain of, the hair ornament wasn't the root of her headache.

 _About a year since Newt Scamander began courting her, Tina was introduced to England's tight-knit wizarding society._

 _To be honest, she felt intimidated by the grandiosity of the Ministry gathering they just escaped from. She usually would shy away from such events at MACUSA, opting to take a guarding duty outside the walls of MACUSA or simply feigning illness. Tonight, she strengthened her resolve to come. Newt, in his ever-endearing way, invited her to join him. I am quite sure my mother would love to meet the woman who charmed Pickett into staying home._

 _Throughout the night, Newt's unease exuded from his seemingly slim frame, but he held his dignified stance whenever he received congratulations for the success of his book. People from different walks of life kept reaching for his hand, having him pause on almost every step._

 _A large hand clapped Newt's shoulder. Tina felt Newt stiffen with the contact._

" _Let me steal her for a moment, brother. Everyone's raving about this beauty, and it'll be a shame to keep her by yourself."_

 _Tina turned around, facing eyes reminded her of the man in her arm. The cropped hair, sharper features, the commanding tone (that she rarely heard from the younger Scamander) distinguished the brothers._

 _She was quite wart of Theseus from what she knew of him. War hero. Seasoned duelist. Head of the Scamander family after the death of their father years prior. Cunning. Brave. Critical. Tina, with all the accolades she garnered, would never measure to the man who was about to lead her to the dance floor._

 _Theseus steered her somewhere in the middle of the crowd, quite distant from where Newt is currently discussing with a balding man. "How do you find this side of the Atlantic, Ms. Goldstein?" Theseus asked, peering at her with curiosity._

" _Too rainy for my liking, but tolerable. I do miss the hustle and bustle of my hometown, though," Tina held his gaze, hoping her nervousness wasn't reflected in her face._

" _I heard from my brother that you are an auror. Quite surprising of him. He tended to shy away from that aspect of the ministry. His…expertise could be quite problematic, if you must know."_

 _Tina was relieved she was able to hold the outburst hanging at the tip of her tongue. "Well, we did meet because of our works. Your brother is a really interesting man, Mr. Scamander."_

" _Interesting indeed, but reckless," Theseus countered._

" _Not exactly the word I'd use. More enlightening, if I may say so," Tina defended. She gripped the man's hand tighter, surprising him. "He's simply too kind for the likes of us to comprehend."_

 _Theseus's eyes narrowed, his chilling gaze alarming Tina. "Are you certain we're still talking about the same person, or has your judgment been too distorted by your infatuation with Newton?"_

" _It seems like your jealousy has clouded yours," retorted Tina._

 _Suddenly, his body loomed hers as he pulled her down to a dip. His jaw twitched. "Watch out, Ms. Goldstein. I am simply looking after your well-being. President Picquery wouldn't appreciate losing one of her topnotch aurors at a time like this. My brother is a dangerous man to be associated with."_

 _Theseus pulled her up with such grace, as if their conversation never happened._

 _Tina lowered her head, avoiding Theseus's gaze but catching the look of a familiar face from behind one of the Grecian pillars._

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the door suddenly opened, breaking the silence of her room.

"Is everything alright?" A hoarse whisper reached her ears. Newt's face was mirrored in the window as he walked closer, the familiar sound of his steps bringing a small comfort to Tina. He paused just behind her, the velvety texture of his robes against the exposed skin of her back. Tina took a sharp breath, watching him watch her. The moonlight washed their features to paleness, but the green of Newt's eyes appeared like timeless emeralds.

Tina answered his inquiry with a nod. "Thank you for bringing me tonight."

Newt bit his lip. "I'm very glad. I was an awful host to you, leaving you by yourself."

"It's alright. It's your night, after all."

"Still—"

"Hush now. As long as you enjoyed it, it's alright with me."

She felt Newt nod as he rested his chin against her shoulder, the smoothness of their skins colliding. Goosebumps rose from where his breaths tickle her. His arms snaked her waist, clutching her against his chest. The tightness of her posture melted against his body.

"Did my brother bother you?" He asked. Tina felt the rumbling in his chest with every word.

"Quite," she answered in honesty. "But the presence of Ms. Lestrange bothered me more."

Chapped lips touched the junction of her neck and shoulder, mapping routes up to the area of her mastoid. Her neck rolled back, as if guided by an invisible hand. Her action gave him access to the column of her neck, which he savored like a starving man. "Her tendency to cause disservice did worry me," he murmured, lips never breaking contact with her skin. A sigh escaped Tina's wet lips, and warmth began to pool on her lower abdomen.

"Don't patronize me, Newt," Tina plead, hand resting and gripping Newt's thigh. In one swift motion, she was facing the man.

When Newt spoke, traces of the awkwardness that he wore like an armor gave way to slow burn that thawed his inhibitions away. "You have had all of me tonight, Tina."

He pulled her to his angled mouth, open mouthed kisses coaxing Tina to give in. Her fingers slid his robe off and hastily removed his tie and shirt, displaying his well-muscled torso. Fingers raked against bronzed skin, slithering to his back. Calloused hands tugged on dark tresses, supporting Tina as she was lowered to the rugged floor. Her leg anchored Newt against her body, escaping her camisole dress.

His tongue traces her upper lips, emitting a moan from her caged body. With a grin painting his lips, Newt peppered kisses down the valleys and mounds of his lover's breasts. His teeth grazed her nipples; Tina gasped. Gaining access to his mane, she pulled his head back.

The haze of intimacy cleared from Newt's gaze, replaced by shock and a build-up of fear. Tina, cupping his face, laughed at his silliness.

"For you," she mouthed, tugging on the buttons of his slacks. She freed his sex and legs of garments, exposing the length and girth of his manhood. She leaned towards him, the tips of her breasts against his torso. The twitch of his cock indicated approval, signaling her to bite on the slope of his shoulder. It drew a quiet cry from the man, and as she stretched her naked form above him, she felt powerful. He massaged the length of his cock and paid attention to the sack of his scrotum, deft fingers exploring thoroughly as inherent of her. She touched her lips to every inch of flesh it can reach, feeling sinew tense with every movement. Her lips touched every scar, as if muttering a prayer. He responded with groans that became rougher and rougher until his seed spilled against her hand, his body shuddering.

She faced him, cheek resting against his abdominals.

When his hooded eyes regarded her, she knew the night was yet to end, thoughts of any impending doom temporarily forgotten.


	4. Chapter 4

**Note:** Season's errands got me rushing everywhere this week. I apologize for the delay, especially in Where Poppies Grow. Anyway, a cute little thing I thought of while being pampered myself earlier today. I. Couldn't. Resist.

Standard disclaimers apply. Also, modern AU.

* * *

Tina sipped on her glass of wine, relishing the sweetness on her tongue as she watched fire lick on wood. The sentimental streak of her husband with his former school house paid off with the cooling blows of autumn.

She had to admit, pampering herself for a day was a refreshing experience. At first, she felt really incensed with Queenie taking things to her own hands and interrupting with her daily work. Once the masseuse's hands began rolling and pressing on her tense back muscles, all thoughts of making Queenie's life a bit more difficult flew off the window. The masseuse's hands had more magic than any magical reserve she knows (figuratively, that is).

Being an auror has always been a joy to her. Tina likes having to delve into things – investing time and energy to get to the ends of the matter. She likes being right and having control over her work and personal life. She did need to have her wits intact; raising Queenie required her to do so. She loves her sister dearly, but Queenie and her quirks needed time getting used to.

And Newt – Merlin's beard. She loves the man with all that she has, but dealing with his creatures could be a handful. She couldn't remember the last time she had to worry about one of them wreaking havoc in their house. Generally, they're well behaved and their parcel of land served as some sort of haven for them (thanks to Newt's preparedness for anything creature related). However, the past few days had the creatures needing both her and Newt's attention – the erumpents' mating finally becoming fruitful, Pickett the bowtruckle becoming sick, Norris the niffler getting handsy with Jacob's mother's necklace that had him missing in the Kowalski's abode…the list went on.

Thank Merlin for Queenie's perceptiveness. The girl day was the most relaxing thing she'd done in a while.

She loved the foot spa. The pedicure, in particular.

The nature of her work rarely had her wearing the less practical high-heeled shoes Queenie usually runs with at work. She would rather stick to her sensible loafers or low-heeled boots while running around instead of risking tripping because the heel of her shoe got caught in some gutter. At home, she would prefer walking around in the cushioned slippers her sister gifted her on her last birthday. Newt, despite being awkward at first glance, was agile as required by his day job, and chasing each other at their spacious home is easier done barefoot.

She couldn't wait for him to come home.

Tina looked at her freshly scrubbed feet and painted toe nails, smiling at the sight of pale yellow polish contrasting her skin. She didn't expect it to look well with her, and yellow is one of the last colors she would have worn. She could have opted to paint darker tones on her toes, but the yellow made her quite…happy. At first, it was timely and poetic because of the season, but gut feel told her to go for it.

She wouldn't deny she's become quite sentimental as well. An expressive sentimental, that is.

The creak of their heavy front door through her thoughts, followed by heavy footfalls. Tina sipped on her wine, listening as Newt laid his suitcase on the floor and removed his shoes. She could imagine him hanging his well-worn coat as he trudged towards the sitting room.

"You didn't have to wait for me," the gruffness of his voice washed over her. Tina turned to him, watching as he removed his waistcoat and loosened his shirt. She placed her wine glass on the table, rising to her knees and taking over his hands.

She worked on the buttons of his shirt, sliding it off to the carpeted floor silently. She could sense his gaze at her as she proceeded to his slacks. He stood before her, quiet and unwavering.

Finishing her work, Tina pressed her back against the arm of the couch, giving space for Newt to sit. The man relented. Tina rested her feet on the table, crossing her ankles. She heard Newt take a sharp breath before he moved to the floor.

Smirking, Tina reached for the mess of copper waves. "I missed you today."

The roughness of Newt's hands was familiar to her skin, welcoming his ministrations. His thumb grazed the prominence on the lateral aspect of her foot, drawing circular patterns on its entirety. Chapped lips press on her knee, kisses punctuating the length of her exposed leg. He would murmur 'soft' and 'beautiful', then teasingly graze his teeth at her ankle. Tina gasped, almost withdrawing her foot if not for Newt's grasp. The man grinned, lacing her toes with his fingers.

"You wear my school colors well," he complimented, dropping a kiss on the plane of her foot and making it twitch. "Ticklish, aren't you?"

Tina couldn't control the blooming roses on her cheeks.

With a boldness he rarely showed, Newt grasped her thighs, pressing the length of his body against Tina's thinly covered one.

The night would be spent mapping all her ticklish spots (and his).


End file.
